


A Fleck of Green (Drake X MC)

by hplm86



Category: Choices: Stories You Play, The Royal Romance (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-04 02:53:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15832278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hplm86/pseuds/hplm86
Summary: Despite choosing him over Liam, Riley Brooks (MC) asked Drake Walker to leave forever after an unexpecting pregnancy, adamant that the father was Liam. Drake left for 3 years, moving to America and dealing with the alcoholism that followed his heartbreak. Now that Drake's finally back in Cordonia for Savannah's wedding, is it possible that Liam wasn't the father after all?Jumps around between two timelines.





	1. Chapter 1

_Present day -_

He swallowed hard. No matter how much water he drank on that flight, it wasn’t enough. His mouth felt like sandpaper.

Drake Walker of Cordonia had left home over three years ago and never looked back, until today. He supposed he could maybe be called _Drake Walker of Massachusetts_ now, but it didn’t quite have the same ring to it.

Truth be told, when he left Cordonia, he didn’t really expect to come back. _Ever._

But what was that old saying? _You could take the man out of Cordonia, but_ …. he shook his head.

As much as he hated it, there he was again. In the same small, clean airport he had been in dozens of times before. Drake darted quickly into the men’s restroom, hoping not to run into anyone he knew. He sauntered towards the sinks, his legs sore from the 12 hour flight, and washed some of the stale sweat off of his face. He was uncertain what part of the discomfort he felt during the flight was due to travel versus the anxiety of coming _home_. He waited in the bathroom for a few minutes, wondering several times if he should just grab a flight back immediately, before deciding he needed to stay.

As he walked to the luggage carousel, memories he had tried to bury came rushing back to the surface. He cursed inwardly. If only he could have had _one drink_ of whiskey to calm his nerves. _Just a little to dull the ache inside his chest._ His eyes scanned the room until they found an airport bar, just a _few feet_ away from him.  He looked at it intently, pausing for a few seconds.

_No,_ his hands clenched into fists. He wasn’t going to waste a solid 6 months of sobriety on _this._ He picked up his pace and continued to move forward.

As much as he _hated_ the feelings that coursed through his body as he took in the all too familiar sights and smells of his home country, he was back because he _loved_ his sister more. He’d do anything to give her away for her wedding, even though she was marrying that old fogey Bertrand Beaumont. After all, she was the only other Walker left.

His walking slowed as that realization hit him.  

_The last Walker._ What did that even mean?

Back when their father was alive, being a Walker _meant_ something. Not that the name was noble or anything, but when the four of them walked into a room they were _the Walkers._   _Here come the Walkers,_ people would say. Then Drake’s mom, Bianca, would smile warmly at his father, pride seeping out of every pore of her body. The thought almost made him smile. They had really been best friends, Drake’s mom and dad. _The Walkers._

His heart twisted a little when he thought about his _own_ best friend, now the King of Cordonia, Liam Rys. He sighed. They hadn’t spoken in over _3 years._ Were they even friends anymore? Could they be? Could 3 years really wipe out their years of friendship through the darkest times of Drake’s childhood? An odd array of memories jumbled through his unwilling mind. Drake sighed again. Things used to be so easy with Liam, before he was the king, before…things got complicated.

Before they fell for the same girl.

Drake shook his head, willing the influx of memories to stop flowing. He knew where his thoughts were headed and he wasn’t ready. Seeing his bag approach on luggage carousel, he grabbed it and heaved it onto the ground.

His mind turned back to the Walkers. He never thought about it, but after his dad died during an assassination attempt and their mom abandoned them in grief, Savannah really _was_ the only other Walker left.

For now.

Soon, Savannah wouldn’t be _Savannah Walker_ anymore, she’d be _Savannah Beaumont._

Then it’d be just him.

He inhaled sharply, running his fingers through his long, dark hair.

_Breathe,_ he told himself. _It’s what Sylvia would tell you._  His heart felt a little lighter thinking about Sylvia. Back in his new home town in the states, she was his _AA_ sponsor, an older lady with dyed red curls, far too much perfume, and a heart of gold.

He hated admitting it, but Sylvia was kind of like the mother he had never had. Or, at least the mother he hadn’t had in a _very long time._

Sylvia was convinced that the less alone he felt, the more successful he’d be _._ She kept telling him that he needed to stop pushing people away. How could he tell her, honestly, that this is what he wanted? That there was something _cathartic_ about turning deeper into the solitude, like listening to a sad song when you’re already hurting?

His sister already had a son, and hell, would have a whole new _family_ in a few days after she got married. Bittersweet as it was, he knew that this meant he wouldn’t need to look out for her the same way anymore. Now, Bertrand would look out for her, and she’d look out for him.

Maybe _Walker_ used to be a reminder of family, but now it was just a reminder of how alone he truly was.

With that thought, and a final wayward glance towards the airport bar, Drake Walker walked out of the airport and hailed a cab.

***

_It was a summer evening three and a half years ago._

It was their last night in New York. Drake inhaled shakily, knowing that a lot of his questions would be answered soon, whether the result was good or bad. There she was. Looking otherworldly in her white sun dress, her freckled skin and auburn hair practically _glowing_ in the faltering sunlight on the balcony. Drake felt his breathing hitch as he looked her face, heat reddening his cheeks as he walked towards her.

He tried to steady his breathing as he faced her, his stomach twisting with worry as he saw her eyebrows scrunched together in concern. “Brooks,” he whispered.

As she turned towards him her face broke out into a timid smile, “Drake,” she breathed.

He felt the briefest pang of guilt. For their entire lives, it seemed like nothing could get in the way of the friendship Drake and Liam had. They had made sacrifices for each other, seen loss, seen joy, seen pain. But everything was solid until she showed up.

She had come to Cordonia for Liam, it was true. She was there to fight for Liam’s hand, to _see if she could marry a prince._ But no matter how much he fought it, Drake felt himself falling deeper and deeper in love with Riley Brooks.

Every moment she spent with Liam was painful, every kiss, every night with him, he drowned out with whiskey and solitude. But the more time Drake and Riley spent together while Liam was busy, the more evident it became that maybe for the first time in his life, whiskey and solitude weren’t enough. They fought it for as long as they could, Riley spending every moment she could with Liam, until one night, about a week before they flew to New York.

It was deep in the middle of the Cordonian summer, cicadas chirping, the box fan whirring away by his bed. That night she came to his door, threw herself into his arms, and spent the night in wanton abandon, wrapped up in each other, using their bodies to say the things their voices couldn’t.

They didn’t tell Liam. Not then. They left each other’s arms the next morning, a silent agreement not to talk about what last night had _meant._ It wasn’t until now, In New York, Drake walked out to the balcony to _finally, finally_ talk about _their future_.

“I said no, Drake,” her voice was soft but her eyes were hard, making piercing contact with his. “Liam asked me to marry him, but I said no.” Her gaze was filled with a confusing mixture of things: guilt, exhaustion, and overwhelming resolve.

He shuddered, almost incapable of comprehending what that meant. “So…?” his voice was surprisingly thick with emotion.

“So I want you, Drake. Only you.”

He closed the distance between them, wrapping her in his arms, never wanting to let her go.

***  
And so it was, for a while. For weeks after that wonderful admission of love on the balcony, they only saw each other. They made love, they cooked, they talked about moving away from the city and finding a small house in the mountains to call their own. For the first time in his life, Drake Walker felt like he was really, truly happy.

Then everything stopped.

He could remember that day like it was yesterday. The memories of it came to him in the lonely afternoons, the grim hours of early morning, and the sweat drenched nights.

Riley hadn’t been feeling well, so Hana had dropped off a few things from the pharmacy. She had locked herself in the bathroom for about an hour or so before Drake went to the door and knocked timidly. “Brooks? Can I get you anything?”

A pause.

“Brooks?” he repeated.

“Come in, Drake.”

Drake didn’t know what he had expected to find when he opened the door, but it wasn’t this. Riley was sitting on top of the lid of the toilet seat, her posture oddly straight and her fists clamped to her sides.

“Riley?”

She looked up at him, her eyes red. He walked closer, leaning down on the cold tile in front of her, cupping her face with his hand, “Are you….okay?”

Her eyes searched his for a few minutes before she spoke. Why was she looking at him that way? His heart raced.

“Drake,” she moved her hand towards him, her fist loosening. It took him a second before he saw that she was holding something. He reached down and pulled out a hard piece of plastic from her grasp.

His eyes widened when he realized he was holding a pregnancy test with a very distinct “+” on it. He couldn’t stop himself from putting his arms around her waist and leaning in to kiss her, hard. “Brooks, I can’t even begin to… I mean….” his smile widening by the second. 

“Wait,” she whispered. His heart was beating so fast with happiness he could hardly hear her. “Wait, Drake.”

She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him away. “It’s not yours.”

He felt a jolt in his stomach. “What do you mean? I mean, we’ve been pretty _active,_ Riley. It wouldn’t be surprising, I mean…”

“Drake,” her eyes were filling with tears, “I remember every single time we’ve made love. Every _single time._ And believe me, over the last 5 weeks, its’ been a _lot._ ” She took a moment to smile sadly to herself.

“Exactly Brooks, so—"

“So what I’m saying is that I remember every single time. I… remember the night I told you I chose _you._ I remember the times on the beach, under the stars. I remember that day when we snuck away from the apple orchard…. _.”_ She paused for a second, visibly straining to hold back tears.  “What I know, without a doubt, is that since we became a couple, _every single time we’ve been together the last 5 weeks,_ we’ve used protection. But before that…”

Drake closed his eyes, realization hitting him as he moved away, sitting down directly on the tile. “Before that, you were with Liam.”

Tears started streaming down her eyes as she clamped them shut and nodded. “I’ve always been so good about things like this, Drake. But when I was starting to realize I l-loved you and not Liam I… I started drinking to ignore my true feelings.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and exhaled.

After a long pause, she looked up at him at last. “I know there were times Liam and I forgot. After those nights, drinking shot after shot of whiskey with you, falling for you. But I came here, to Cordonia, for him and the guilt would eat me up. So I’d drink more and go back to his room and—”

He held his hand up. He was quiet for a minute, reeling in his thoughts and trying to figure out how to say what he needed to.

“Hell, Riley,” he sighed, running his fingers through his hair, “It’s a lot to process. I know it’s a strange situation. I felt the guilt with Liam, too.”

She looked at him, not breaking her gaze as he drummed his fingers against his knee, struggling in thought.

“But, I love you, and if,” he paused, looking up at her and grabbing her hand, “-if this is what you want, I’m ready to step up and—”

She held her hand up this time. Tears streamed down her face, but the resolve in her eyes was unmistakable.  “I need you to go.”

“What? I—”

“I need you to go, Drake. It’s obvious I made the wrong choice.”

Drake wondered if the pain he felt in his chest was his heart _literally_ breaking in half. No, that would mean he’d die. That’d be too easy.

“Riley?” he barely breathed, almost unable to look at her, but he did. Her warm blue eyes had been replaced by cold steel.

“I mean it,” she breathed, “don’t talk to me, don’t call me, don’t reach out to me again.”

He stood up, not breaking eye contact with her, waiting in vain for her to waver. He stood there for maybe minutes, maybe hours. “Go,” she whispered, with unshakeable finality.

Nearly catatonic with grief, Drake couldn’t remember exactly how he packed a few of his belongings and left, buying a ticket to _as far as he could go_ , as soon as possible.

She told him to go, so he went. And he didn’t look back.

***

_The Present_

He took a long shower in the bathroom attached to his guest quarters in the palace.  He wished he could wash off the things he was feeling, being back at this place.

The palace, all so mundane a few years ago, now painfully drenched with uninvited flashbacks.

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

When he left Cordonia and… _her_ , it took him months before he could look at himself. Every part of him was too inundated with memories of her to seem normal.

The way she’d keep her face inches from his in bed and talk about how his brown eyes were deep “like chocolate” except for that little fleck of green in the left one. The way she’d rake her fingers through his thick, dark hair and pull if things were getting _particularly_ exciting. The kisses against his square jaw, running her hands over his stubble…. He had given so much of himself to her that he could _barely_ see his own body in the mirror anymore, just memories of _her_. 

It had taken him months to see himself again. Resting his face in his hands, he wondered if returning to Cordonia was a big mistake. His phone buzzed loudly. 

_Savannah._

He unlocked the phone. She was asking him where he was. He sighed and walked to the bedroom to pull out a pair of dress pants.

He would do it for her. Just this once, he would visit the graveyard of his old life for Savannah. Then he would never be back again.

***

_Three years ago_

When he bought his flight, he didn’t care where he went, he needed the fastest flight out. Fate had brought him to Boston. He spent his first few months there in a motel right next to a pub, spending his days buying shot after shot of whiskey and his nights in restless slumber.

 

At first, everywhere he went, women of all ages and types would approach him. Unwanted reminders of what he had left behind, they would stroke his broad shoulders, ooh and aah at his light accent, and deep voice, and stroke his defined stomach, unprompted.

The mixture of too much whiskey and his bad self-esteem was a strange one, and he constantly wondered what exactly they wanted from him. Would they still be as interested if Liam was around, with his princely good looks, blonde hair and bright blue eyes, to compete with him? _No,_ he thought bitterly, _no one in their right mind would choose you over Liam._

For months, he stayed in that grimy hotel, his life a mixture of alcohol and spurning any sort of human interaction. It wasn’t until Savannah visited that he realized how bad it had become.

He took a cab to the airport to meet her, and the look in her eyes told him everything he refused to see for himself. That was the first day he walked to a mirror and saw _himself._ His face was a strange mixture of gaunt and puffy from the lack of food and the abundance of alcohol, his eyes were dull and glassy, and the lumber-carrying physique he had just a few months ago had been replaced with a sort of squalid, boney frame. She begged him to try harder, to get help _for her,_ and he couldn’t refuse.

The day after Savannah left for Cordonia, Drake joined _Alcoholics Anonymous_. If Savannah was the impetus for his change, his sponsor Sylvia was his follow-through. She broke through to him in a way that no one since Riley had been able to.

She helped him realize that if people were paying attention to him, it was because he was attractive. She helped him get a job out in Ipswich, Massachussetts picking and hauling apples, something he’d done many times back in Cordonia. Slowly, his face and body returned to their former state.

He rented a small apartment in a wooded area in Ipswich, sipping (non-alcoholic) cider from the orchard in the evenings, and even started doing some woodworking again.

His emotional scars still made it hard to trust people, to be around people, to _get people._ Sylvia urged him to make lasting relationships – drake tried but just ended up with a long slew of one-night stands. The sex didn’t help. He realized it was just making him worse and he was hurting people so he stopped, and Sylvia accepted that he wasn’t ready yet.

His life was simple but uncomplicated. Sylvia never asked him about his past. Drake got the feeling she knew there was a woman involved, but she didn’t pry. He cut himself off from TV, internet, and news, wanting to know nothing about Cordonia and its’ new queen. Even Savannah knew, in their weekly calls, that talking about anything to do with Cordonia was off limits.

She would tell him about Bartie, of course, and about how things were going with Bertrand. But nothing else. The day Savannah called and excitedly told him about her engagement, he was conflicted. He was glad for his sister, _finally_ getting a chance at the happily ever after she deserved.

But for him – this would mean a wedding in Cordonia. Savannah told him she’d understand, of course, if he couldn’t come. But how could he deny her, his one remaining piece of family on this giant earth, when she so quietly asked him if he could give her away?

So he bought his ticket, spent a lot of days thinking and walking along the cold, stony beaches, and resolved to go.

***

_Present Day_

Drake hated the hollow sound of his dress shoes hitting the marble floors of the palace. He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes, wishing he could hear his work boots crushing dried leaves in the crisp fall air back home instead.

He was walking to Savannah’s rehearsal dinner. He had to face at least _some_ people, he wasn’t exactly sure who would be there. They’d be eating a “simple” meal prepared by the palace staff in the ballroom. He was expecting the entirety of the Beaumont family, the Walkers (him and Savannah), and a plethora of family and friends: a large guest list befitting a noble wedding.

As he hesitated by the open doors to the ballroom, he caught a sight of Savannah first. Her face was flushed with happiness and she threw her head back and laughed while talking to Maxwell, Bertrand behind her trying to keep Bartie from hiding under a table. For just a moment as he took the scene in, he felt home again. Savannah laughing, Maxwell doing some sort of weird break dance, and the old ballroom looking the same as it always had.  

A familiar chuckle caught him off guard. There he was: _Liam._ He looked the same and yet utterly different. While his blue eyes still shone with familiar kindness, he was _the_ King now, and everything about his stance reflected the weight of that responsibility. Liam’s eyes locked with Drakes and faltered for just a split second. He excused himself, walking towards Drake quickly.

_There were so many things to ask. How was he? How was it being King? Were they still… friends?_

Drake gulped, pain coursing through his mind as a few other questions came to mind.

_….How was it being married to Riley? Did he realize how incredibly lucky he was to have her? Was their kid ok?_

“Drake,” Liam smiled, finally face to face, just feet apart. His eyes looked a little sad. “There’s so much to tell you, my friend, I…”

“Sorry I didn’t call,” Drake blurted out. He felt a little silly, so he added, “It was just…hard, you know? Knowing that you were with …. her.”

Liam’s eyebrows furrowed, “Drake, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about….” he squeezed Drake’s shoulder. “Let’s take a moment to get some privacy so we can discuss some important matters.”

Drake nodded, turning to go out the door when the wind was knocked out of him. A familiar smell, like orange blossoms, invaded his senses. He heard her heels clack before his brown eyes met her blue.

_Riley._

His heart seemed to beat so fast it was like it was whirring.

Her eyes were wide in surprise as they took each other in. Like Liam, she looked the same yet different. Gone were the wild curls and casual clothes she used to wear, replaced by a loose chignon bun and a fitted blue gown. No matter how much time he had spent working to forget her for the past three years, all of it dissolved when he looked into those eyes again.

He was just about to say something when he heard a soft giggle and a saw a blur run into Riley’s legs. It was a little girl with long, dark hair – curly like Riley’s. She looked up at Drake, and he found himself staring back at a pair of brown eyes with a fleck of green in the left one.

_His eyes._

They were _his_ eyes. He stumbled backwards.  

Riley didn’t break eye contact with Drake, her voice wavering a little, “Sweetheart, I want you to meet an old friend of mine, his name is Drake,” she paused for just a second, exhaling slowly, “Drake, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Bianca Walker.”

***

 


	2. Chapter 2

Drake hadn’t moved for a few minutes.

_Walker. Bianca Walker._

His mother’s name. He swallowed hard.

Bianca looked up at her mother and frowned slightly, “It’s BEE, mommy.”

Riley smiled, smoothing her daughter’s hair a little, “That’s right. She’s a busy bee, so we call her Bee.” Bianca (Bee) smiled and ran off, heading towards as laughing Bartie in the ballroom.

Savannah walked towards them. “Drake, I know this is my rehearsal dinner – but you get it. Walk me down the aisle, take the seat to the right after I get to the front.” She put her palms on both of their backs, pushing them away, “you guys should go talk.”

Savannah shut the ballroom doors with an authoritative _click._

They didn’t move for a second. Riley cleared her throat, “The maze should be empty right now, should we…?”

He nodded, and they walked ahead, several feet apart.

He took a seat on a marble bench at the edge of the maze, unable to process everything that had just happened. He just stared ahead in silence, dumbfounded. _Did he really have a daughter? Could she still be Liam’s?_

His eyes closed as he remembered her, every featured etched into his mind. Long dark hair and _those eyes._ Acceptance hit him like a pile of bricks. _Definitely not Liam’s daughter._

“Riley,” he breathed.

She sighed, a ragged sound. “I thought of this moment often, Drake. When you’d finally be back, when you’d finally see her…. I had almost given up hope.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” his voice was hoarse and low.

She sat down next to him on the bench, falling onto it with a loud thump. “How could I? After what I said…. After what I assumed. What would I say? _‘Oh hey, Drake! So I know I kicked you out and broke your heart, but turns out, it IS your baby, soooooo come back and help please.’_ I just couldn’t do that to you. I didn’t want you to feel used.”

He closed his eyes, leaning back, running his fingers down his face. He still couldn’t believe it.

“I know it seemed cruel, Drake,” her voice was softer, “but I know how you are. How selfless. _How accepting._ And I was sleeping with your best friend for _months_ while I knew that we loved each other. I felt base and unfaithful and… and I felt like I had to deal with the consequences of my misdeeds, alone.”

“Riley,” his voice was angrier than he intended, “you act like I didn’t know that. _Like I didn’t accept it._ It’s not like it was a surprise to me you were sleeping with Liam. You didn’t have to push me away like that.”

“I know, I know, I know!” Riley stood up quickly, turning to face Drake, “don’t you know I know that now? Don’t you think I spent nearly every single day wondering if I made the wrong decision? But you were willing to give me _everything,_ Drake! How could I let you completely throw your life away raising another man’s child?”

He winced. “It wouldn’t have been throwing my life away. But…. it isn’t another man’s child, is it, Riley?” his voice was suddenly quiet. He looked up at her, almost afraid of the answer, “Bianca…Bee is my daughter, isn’t she?”

Riley nodded, a sob escaping her throat, her hands coming up to her face. “Yes, Drake. She’s yours.”

He could remember the conversation they had over 3 years ago like it was yesterday. “But, the protection, and…”

She shook her head. “The issue is… I forgot the first time we were together. Remember? Weeks before we went to New York, before I officially chose _you._ I went to your room and we…. We got together that night, for the first time. We didn’t really talk about it. I told you, ever since we were officially a couple, we used protection. I guess I forgot about that night in the summer, before….”

“Christ,” his ran his fingers through his hair, “so the first time we ever did _that_ we…. We made a baby.”

He felt numb. Riley nodded somberly.

“I should’ve called,” his head fell into his palms as he hunched over, “I should’ve tried to reach out, and—”

She shook her head, placing a hand on his shoulder. “No, Drake. I told you not to and you respected my boundary. It was my job to reach out. When Savannah told me you didn’t want to hear _anything_ about Cordonia, I just resolved to wait for you to visit before telling you.”

They sat in silence for a beat. The cicadas chirped loudly, the sun shining bright over them, the smell of lilies in the air. Drake inhaled deeply. Cordonian summers were always something he had missed while he was away.

“Does Bee know?” his voice was soft. He wondered if it was appropriate to use her nickname, even if he _was_ her father.

“No, not yet. I didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. She knows her father exists, and a few stories about you. But that’s it. Do you – do you want to tell her?”

“Christ, Riley, of course I do! She’s my daughter, she – she needs to know me. And even more than that,” his gaze dropped to the ground, “I need to know her.”

Riley’s demeanor changed completely, a small smile replacing her concerned look. “Oh she’s wonderful, Drake. Stubborn and outdoorsy like you, loud and occasionally obnoxious like me – she’s the best kid in the world! Though, I might be biased,” she allowed herself a low chuckle, “she’ll love you.”

Drake couldn’t help returning a timid smile. Her eyes practically sparkled when she talked about her daughter. _Their daughter._

“I know it may she strange that she has your last name, but…. I never felt that connected to my family and I guess I hoped you’d come back and….”

He nodded, still looking down, not daring to make eye contact.

She cleared her throat. “Could we tell her after Savannah’s wedding tomorrow? It’s just a lot of _excitement_ and I’d rather take care of it after some of the dust has settled. Is that ok?”

 Drake sighed. He wanted nothing more than to _know_ his daughter, but he understood. “I’ve waited three years, I can wait another day or two.”

He finally looked up at her, her blue eyes a little moist.

“We should head back, Brooks.” Her last name rolled off his tongue before he could think about it, a familiarity he wasn’t sure he was ready for yet.

Her face broke out into a wide smile, “God, I’ve missed that. You calling me that.”

He smiled weakly, cursing himself inwardly. He wasn’t ready for this. He wasn’t ready. Why did he have to call her that? It wasn’t the time.

He started walking towards the ballroom, when Riley grabbed his arm. He turned to look at her. Her eyes were soft, questions flowing out of them. “Drake,” she whispered, pulling him towards her slightly.

Though her inquiry was subtle, Drake knew what it meant. She wanted to know about _them._ It took every bit of strength in his body to not turn around and run to her, hungrily kissing her down her jaw and her neck, pulling her loose bun out and running his fingers through her thick hair.

But the last three years stopped him. The alcoholism stopped him. The immense pain he suffered stopped him. Though he could admit he still loved her, he couldn’t let himself go down that path again.

He gently pulled away, grumbled something about getting back to the rehearsal dinner, and left Riley there to gawk at him as he darted away from the maze and away from her.

Their hearts broke again. Together.

***

_Wedding Day_

“Ugh, Savannah this is fine!” Drake tucked in the white dress shirt Savannah had bought him into his grey suit pants. His shoulders were a little broader than they were when he lived in Cordonia, so it was a bit of a tight fit, but was unnoticeable under the suit jacket.

“Ok, ok,” Savannah beamed at him, “I’m just so glad you’re here!” She threw her arms around her brother’s shoulders, sniffing loudly.

“Sav, I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he wiped her tear away, “don’t mess up your makeup, or we’ll be even later than we already are!”

Savannah shuffled in her enormous ivory gown to the limo waiting outside the Beaumont estate, Drake joining her in the backseat. They’d be meeting the bridesmaids at the chapel, but were running a good 20 minutes late.

The wedding colors were grey and light blue, so Drakes fitted grey suit was adorned with a bunch of small blue flowers, pinned to his breast pocket. Savannah had the same flowers in her dark hair.  The siblings sat in silence, holding hands tightly, an acknowledgement of the gravity of the wedding.

As they reached the outside of the chapel, Savannah hopped out towards the waiting wedding planner and told her to let the bridesmaids go ahead and go down the aisle. They walked towards the entrance, waiting outside two huge wooden doors. Savannah took Drake’s arm, squeezing a little.

He took her hand in his and squeezed back, “it’s all going to be just fine.”

She nodded in resolve.

The door opened and everyone in the _very full_ room turned towards them and stood. A harp started playing delicately as he and Savannah faced the altar. They walked slowly, together, as people’s eyes followed them.

That’s when he saw her. He felt warm, like his suit was suddenly four times as thick and the room had a roaring fire.

_Riley._ She was a bridesmaid, standing straight in front of him at the right side of the altar with two of Savannah’s other friends. They were all wearing the palest blue, and something about it made her freckles stand on edge, her auburn hair seem like it was fire, and her eyes look like they were two sparkling sapphires surrounded by dark lashes.

He almost felt like he couldn’t breathe. _Walk,_ he told himself.

Try as he might, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of Riley. It was then that he noticed her face. Beautiful as it was, it was deflated. Sad. Remorseful. She alternated between making intense eye contact with him and looking away, ashamed.

He felt a quick pang of guilt. This was the first time he thought about what shaped _her_ decisions. Sure, he was fucked up but…. maybe she was too?

Though she was a duchess now, Riley was abandoned by her family in childhood, raised by an aunt who treated her like a burden. Riley came here for Liam, but fell in love with Drake. That guilt must have clouded her choices, and that desire not to be a burden…. Maybe that desire made her push him away. Could he forgive her for that?

Drake averted his gaze. In the ocean of his _own issues,_ did he forget to consider hers? He continued to walk forward with Savannah.

Finally, as they reached the front, he nodded to Bertrand, gave a kiss on the cheek to Savannah, and sat down on the pew to the right.

As the vows commenced, he tried hard to pay attention to Savannah. But he couldn’t keep his eyes off Riley.

***

_The Reception_

Thousands of photos, some awkward speeches, and a cake cutting later, Drake saw Riley slip out of the ballroom and walk towards a balcony. He downed his sparkling water with resolve, and followed her out.

She was leaning on the edge of the balcony looking up at the intense, slightly orange moon above. The breeze shifted her hair around her shoulders.

“Brooks,” he whispered, making her jump a little.

“Oh! I didn’t expect to see—”

With 4 long strides his arms were around her. He pressed his lips to hers, and then ran kisses down her neck and collar bone. She tensed for a minute in surprise, then relaxed into his arms and pulled him in.

Her lips found his again and they kissed messily, saying things with their bodies they didn’t know how to express with words, pressing against each other with the ferocity of two parts of a whole separated for a _very long time._ His tongue flicked against hers and he felt the vibration of her moan in his mouth.

“Let’s find somewhere private,” she pulled away just a little, gasping for air.

He nodded, grabbing her hand as they walked down the outdoor stairs and ran into the maze again, hands running over each other as they moved.

When they reached a sturdy swing in the center, he sat on it and pulled her towards him. She straddled him, not willing to break their kissing as she started to unbutton his shirt. He pulled down her sweetheart neckline to her waist, taking her breasts into his warm palms. He groaned.

They were a bit bigger than he remembered. Her body responded the same, but it was different in general, a bit softer and warmer than before.

He leaned down to take her nipple in his mouth, sucking lightly and running his tongue over every ridge and bump. She leaned her head back, moaning as he peppered kisses along her breasts and down to her rib cage.

She yelped as he lifted her quickly, placing her on the swing before pulling down her pantyhose and lifting her dress. He parted her thighs and ran his tongue broadly against her core as her legs shook. “Drake, oh my God…”

He moaned into her as he licked her most sensitive parts, running a finger against her as she jerked around and pushing it inside of her slowly, pumping in and out. She tasted the same as he remembered, delicately sweet and exactly right.

She came undone in minutes, her body hot against his toungue and her mouth gasping for air, whispering his name. After regaining some composure, she stood up, pushing him back on the swing, unzipping his pants.

“Shit, shit…” words came spilling out of him as she pulled him out, stroking him assertively with her right hand before straddling him again and sliding onto him.

He almost bucked off of the swing. The warmth of her enveloped him in a way he hadn’t felt in a _very long time._  He tried to calm his mind down as his body instantly felt ready for release. She moved up and down, occasionally kissing him or nibbling his ear, her speech flitting between obscenities and his name.

He kissed her neck, whispering encouragement as he finally found his release inside of her, holding her tight against him as he found her lips.

The breathed hard together, light sweat on both of their foreheads as they held each other, both afraid to let the other go. “Shit,” he inhaled sharply, “I thought my memory was exaggerating how good it was with you, but….”

She nodded in breathless agreement.

They gathered their clothes and started getting dressed, a comfortable silence between them as they absorbed what just happened.

“What changed?” Riley finally broke the silence, taking Drake’s hand and squeezing lightly.

“Shit, Brooks. I just realized I was holding you to a standard I couldn’t live up to. We make mistakes. We’ve had things that have shaped us and…. I know we’re both fucked up,” he grinned at her, rubbing her shoulder lightly, “but I think if we promise to keep, I don’t know, _talking about it,_ we can make this work.”

Riley looked up at him, kissing him on the cheek softly. “I think so too.”

***

 

:D AND i'm posting the epilogue today. Comments and kudos always appreciated if you liked <3 


	3. Epilogue

“Dad!” Bee screeched as he threw her in the air. “Come on, we have to head down!”

 

Bianca grabbed Drake’s calloused, big hand and pulled him hard, practically tripping over herself in excitement.

 

Drake grabbed her and held her as he walked, the smile on his face getting bigger by the moment as he approached the beach. “Let’s go find your mom.”

 

He finally saw her, in the distance. He wondered if seeing her would ever  _stop_ making him feel this way. She wore a simple white sundress, her hair wild and curly in the sea breeze. “Brooks,” he smiled, winking at her and giving her a thumbs up and looking her up and down.

 

“Not so bad yourself, Walker,” she took his free hand as he stood next to her.

 

Bertrand cleared his throat. “If we’re quite ready to get the ceremony going…”

 

Drake grinned, “Sure, brother-in-law and officiant,” Maxwell whooped loudly in the background.

 

He held his daughter in one arm, and Riley’s hand with the other, as Bertrand began reciting the traditional Cordonian ceremony. It was the  _only_ traditional thing about his wedding to Riley. With her in a sundress, he was wearing a white button up shirt and dress pants rolled up to his knees. But looking around at his friends, including Liam, his best man, and Sylvia, his old AA sponsor – he couldn’t help feeling like untraditional was  _perfect._

 

His attention turned to his two girls, Bee and Riley. He looked at his soon-to-be wife’s eyes, blue like the crystal waters of the Cordonian sea. Calming him when he needed them to, and raging over him when they loved, they laughed, or they quarreled, taking him to depths and places he didn’t know he could reach.

 

And his daughters eyes. A bright brown, like the smell of earth after the rain, grounding him in moments of weakness and reminding him to appreciate the little things.

And that little, stubborn fleck of green. Green like the growing leaves, poking through the snow the same way her eyes melted the remaining ice in his heart.

 

As he kissed Riley to the cheers of his friends and family, he felt pretty good about not being the last Walker after all.

***

 

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a comment if you liked :D much appreciated.

 


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